


come on climb into my golden cockpit

by notdarthvader



Series: variations on a shepard hymn [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notdarthvader/pseuds/notdarthvader
Summary: Commander Shepard.Spectre.Hero.Bisexual disaster.(Or; five times Shepard was a little bit in love with her crew, and one time her crew was a little bit in love with her right back.)





	come on climb into my golden cockpit

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from Ke$ha's Gold Trans Am
> 
> Despite what the summary might imply there’s no multi-people sex happening in here. Shepard’s just bi and a mess, getting a crush on everyone.

Shepard talks to her crew regularly. Granted, _talking to her crew_ usually consists of them crying about their childhood traumas while she nods and offers gentle encouragement.

So Shepard never _really_ talks about herself to them.

* * *

 

Of course, in retrospect, this was probably their first mistake.

* * *

 

****1\. Garrus; Part I** **

* * *

 

Shepard doesn’t really have tells. Military and N7 training wiping away all the traditional giveaways of emotion, save for the ones she actually wanted to show.

But, when he starts speaking to her, her eyebrows twitch up, just so, for a brief second.

It’s all strictly professional, and it passes so quickly even _Garrus_ misses it. Her touch lingers on his shoulder, though, and sometimes she reserves a quiet, knowing smile for him when he speaks honestly, openly with her.

And Garrus-

Well.

Garrus watches the way power crackles beneath her skin, the way the spill of her wine-colored hair streams down her back, the thick, overwhelming might of her shoulders and her thighs.

Shepard is a dreadnaught pulled into human flesh, a battering ram of blood and bone.

And _damn_ , if that isn’t attractive.

* * *

 

****2\. Liara** **

* * *

 

When they pick up the archeologist, Garrus is a bit more familiar with the tells and expressions on Shepard’s face. Not _that_ familiar, mind you, since she is human and all, her features still alien and strange to study. But he is a detective, and he knows how to read an individual.

So when Dr. T’Soni calls out for help, trapped in the Prothean device as she is, Garrus is startled to watch Shepard’s eyebrows twitch – the same way they had when he first spoke to her. Her voice comes out pitched marginally higher.

Liara doesn’t notice, and neither does Wrex. So, Garrus says nothing about it, and instead watches as Shepard tears the base apart, cutting through geth like it’s nothing.

Liara though-

Liara’s cheeks flush purple, and her words stammer as Shepard breaks her loose.

Garrus exchanges a look with Wrex.

It’s hard to blame her.

* * *

 

 **3**.  **Miranda**

* * *

 

When the door opens, and Miranda guns down the traitor, Shepard really thinks she should have had an excuse for the stifled gasp that hisses through her teeth.

She’s been dead two years, she’s not entirely healed, she woke up and ran straight back into battle, she probably hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in ages – being dead notwithstanding.

Miranda shoots her a curious look, even as Shepard has her gun trained between those pretty, pretty eyes.

“Are you in pain, Shepard?” Miranda asks.

“I just got brought back to life, and thrown right into a fight. Nothing more than what you would expect.”

Miranda purses her lips. “I can take a look at you after you’ve spoken to the Illusive Man, make sure you haven’t broken or torn anything open.”

Shepard’s eyebrows twitch up, a split-second expression. “Ah, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Miranda shrugs and turns towards the shuttle. “Suit yourself. Come on, I think I’ve had enough of this place for one lifetime. Two, in your case.”

* * *

 

 **4.**   **Garrus; Part II**

* * *

 

When he says her name, there’s something like wild relief that crosses her features, and the way his name rolls off her tongue, rich and heavy with joy brings a weary smile to his face.

Then, they are fighting, and he’s taking a rocket to the face, and she’s calling his name, panicked, haloed in light.

* * *

 

“No one would give me a mirror,” he says, and watches with some amazement as her eyebrows twitch up. “How bad is it?”

Shepard schools her expression into a wry smile, but her voice comes out a slight pitch higher as she tells him to just slap some paint on it.

He laughs, and she grins back, and pain spikes bright in the side of his face and he’s wincing. “Some women like a man with scars. Mind you, most of those women are krogan-“

And here’s the thing.

Maybe it’s because she was dead for two years. Maybe because she’s no longer officially part of the Alliance. Maybe because she just doesn’t give a shit any more. But, her eyes trace over the scars on the side of his face, lingering and slow, and her eyebrows raise again. Assessing.

 _Interested_.

He blinks, and clears his throat as Jacob walks from the room.

It had to be his imagination, because when he looks again, her face is completely blank.

* * *

 

 **5.**   **Samara**

* * *

 

Of all the reactions Garrus expected Shepard to have to the Justicar, a stifled gasp, and a choked off _oh_ was _not_ it.

The Justicar fixes her eyes on Shepard, and to his amazement, Shepard's eyebrows raise, her lips dropping open just so.

The Justicar’s lips curl up in an almost smug smile, and Shepard schools her expression, her voice pitching back down to business in the space between breaths.

Garrus knows what he saw, though. The Justicar saw it, too.

Shepard’s face remains dusted a light pink the remainder of the mission. Though she doesn’t have any more solid giveaways, Garrus watches as her eyes linger on Samara, tracing the delicate line of her wrists, and the solid power of her thighs.

Samara assesses Shepard right back, and the rosy pink of Shepard’s cheeks go dark, dark red.

* * *

 

**+1**

* * *

 

“You know,” Garrus says, folding his arms and leaning back against the ship. “most of the damn ship is halfway in love with you.”

Shepard freezes where she’s drinking her water, and forces it down, coughing only once. “Excuse me, _what_?”

“Oh yeah,” Garrus says, watching as blood rushes up in her face. “We’ve got a message chain about it.”

“ ** _We_**.”

Garrus shrugs a shoulder, grinning over at her. “I’m allowed to be halfway in love with my girlfriend, aren’t I?”

Shepard stares at him, her lips parted. Closes them, clears her throat and goes back to her water. “You’re a bastard, Vakarian.”

“I take it you _don’t_ want to hear what Samara or Miranda said about you?”

“Damnit, Garrus, if you don’t show me that right fucking now-“


End file.
